[More on Venice, from Paul Fatout's version of "The Vandal"
(in Mark Twain Speaking: 30]

And have you seen the gondolas and heard the romantic
gondolier sing -- as only the romantic gondolier can sing
-- according to the romances? I have heard the romantic
gondoliers sing -- we had just entered Venice at eight in the
evening and were floating away toward the hotel. We were poking
dismally around in the shadows among long rows of towering
untenanted buildings, and were very sad and disheartened and
disappointed -- for this was not the Venice we had
expected. It was at such a time as this that this ragged
barefooted guttersnipe turned up and began to sing, true to the
traditions of his race.

I stood it for about five minutes -- and then I said:

"Look here, Roderigo Gonzales Michael Angelo -- Smith -- I'm a
pilgrim and I'm a stranger but I'm not going to stand any such
caterwauling as that! If this thing goes on one of us has got to
take water. It is enough that my cherished dreams of Venice have
been blighted forever, without taxing your talents to make
the matter worse. Another yelp out of you and overboard you
go!"